


rendor to your splendor

by angelblur



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Age Regression, Drug Use, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-25
Updated: 2017-03-06
Packaged: 2018-09-19 22:40:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9463493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelblur/pseuds/angelblur
Summary: tyler bursts into giggles as he hides behind his hands, and blurry just chuckles as he crushes his benzos right next to tyler’s colors.





	1. one

**Author's Note:**

> cw for drug use, murder, violence, sexual abuse mentions, physical abuse mentions. if youve read my stuff before yk the drill. ♥︎

blurry comes home at two in the morning, covered in blood and dirt. 

he closes the front door quietly, securely locking the deadbolts and latches installed into the wood before kicking off his shoes and limping towards the light switch. the softness of the carpet makes a gentle _swish_ noise under his feet, and he focuses on that single sound to keep him conscious as he turns on the light and lowers his bag to the floor. 

a soft snore interrupts his internal struggle, and blurry smiles as he turns to see tyler fast asleep on the couch. his pink blanket is tucked under his chin, lanky legs hanging off the cushions and exposed to the cold air. his stuffed rabbit is crammed into his arms, and he slightly drools onto it’s matted fur as he twitches in his sleep. 

blur doesn’t want to wake him, but he knows it’s impossible. instead, he trudges into the kitchen and shakily opens a cabinet, slipping the tall bottle of vodka from the shelf and sliding down onto the tile floor. as he pops the top and takes a swig, he hears tyler stirring from his slumber and yawning. when he realizes the light’s on, he sleepily stands and sprints into the kitchen, smiling wide as he collapses into blurry’s arms and hides his face in his neck. 

“i missed’ya, papa,” he mumbles, coiling around blurry like a scrawny koala as blur takes another sip and kisses tyler’s forehead. 

“i missed yuh, too, sugah,” blurry coos, grunting as he hoists his injured arm over tyler’s shoulder. 

ty notices the strain, of course, so he gently sits back on his calves and hums as he sees the wide gash on blurry’s arm. “lemme get the stitches,” he starts, but blurry shakes his head as he holds him closer to his chest. he takes in the smell of bubblegum and fresh soap, and tyler immerses himself in blurry’s air of cigarettes and blood, and they press tightly to one another until blurry’s drunk enough to stand. 

tyler stitches up the wounds on his shoulders and legs as blurry does a line on the bathroom sink. he growls as tyler gently winds the needle through his flesh, only relaxing with ty’s whispers of “there, there, dada,” or “almost done, promise.” when he’s finished, tyler slathers them in antibiotics and wraps them tightly with gauze, cinching them shut with a graceful touch. he plasters a hello kitty bandage onto the one under blurry’s arm, and he declares him cured.

“s’past bedtime,” blurry hums, chuckling as tyler pouts and curls up into his chest. “c’mon, we c’n take a bath tomorrow an’ maybe color some. we c’n watch care bears, i know yuh love tha’.”

tyler’s only sooky because blurry’s been gone the whole weekend, he knows that. if tyler could stay up all night talking to blurry, he would, but the angel’s falling asleep in blurry’s torn-up arms right now; blur stands, lifting tyler with him, and he carries them past the couch to the bedroom. he manages to grab tyler’s bunny on the way, and tyler chews on it’s ears as he sits on blurry’s mattress and waits for him to brush his teeth. 

it’s hard for blur to leave tyler alone, especially regressed. he almost always is, now, not that that’s a problem at all—but blurry worries sick about his baby, if he’s eating and drinking and taking showers and remembering the combination on the gun safe. he has work to do, and both he and tyler know that. hell, blurry’d be lying if he said he didn’t love his job. being a mafia boss isn’t all fancy suits and business meetings, and that’s what b likes; he eats up the thrill of the chase and the violence of the kill. the drugs ain’t so bad, either. 

but the best part of it all is tyler, and blurry’d sooner cut off his own arms then knowingly put tyler in too much danger then necessary. that’s why tyler stays in their safe, secret apartment while blurry steals and murders and brings back crayons from the dollar store. 

“dada?” tyler meekly calls, and blurry knows he’s been lost in his thoughts too long. he spits up the toothpaste and blood before wiping the coke off his upper lip; flicking off the lights and walking up to the bed on the floor, blur smiles at tyler’s half-lidded eyes and grabby hands in his direction. 

he tucks tyler into his chest, and he falls asleep instantly as blurry stays up to think and to plan. 

he’s got a job to do, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comment pease


	2. two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "i'm the bes', papa says so."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope u guys are into this!!

“two-fifty.”

“you crazy?” josh cocks his head to the side, a bewildered but slightly flattered look on his face. his dark, green curls fall into his laughing eyes, framing his soft yet rough features. “cash’s tight for all of us, b, not just me. two hundred’s fine.”

blurry scoffs, but peels the bills from his pocket and places them neatly into josh’s outstretched hand. in return, he’s handed a collection of baggies full of pristine coke, all expertly tested by one drug dealer josh dun himself. “next time, yuh take it all,” blurry hums, tucking the bags safely into his jacket, “or i’ont be so nice.”

josh rolls his eyes, but a grin lingers on his lips knowing he’s the only one who could do that to blurry without getting his teeth kicked in. he’s been selling drugs around the city for a year or two, just in his late teen’s trying to pay rent. he’s funny, and he’s cute, and tyler likes him, so blurry’s finally learning to trust the kid. 

speaking of whom, josh glances over blurry’s shoulder to see tyler peeking at them from behind the couch. he flushes red at being caught, but his gaze never falters as he blinks, wide-eyed, into josh’s face. “hi, joshie,” he mumbles, and josh offers his kindest grin. 

“hey, dude,” he greets, waiting for a nod from blurry to walk up to him and sit on the couch. tyler eventually toddles out, sitting next to josh as he points to scattered papers on the coffee table in front of the cushions. “these yours? show me your favorites, i wanna see.”

biting back a grin, tyler points to the one on the top. “it’s hello kitty,” he explains, and josh nods seriously as he looks over the piece. “i ran outta pink marker, so i used crayon on her dress.”

“improvisation,” josh notes, keeping the stoic look on his face as he glances back up to tyler. “very professional. i dig it.”

tyler’s face lights up, and his socked feet kick into the air as he looks back over to blurry. “he digs it!” he squeals, bouncing up and down. “thank you, josh!”

josh laughs, a low, hoarse thing, and lovingly ruffles tyler’s hair as he stands. “no problem, ty,” he grins, and blurry takes a moment to admire how pretty josh really is. not too long a moment, mind you, but just a moment. “i gotta hit the road. i’ll be back tomorrow or so, an’ maybe blur’ll let me bring mario kart, huh?”

“i’ll beat you!” tyler warns, happily chewing on the end of his crayon. “i’m the bes’, papa says so.”

josh looks to blurry in confirmation, who grins and shrugs a little. “he’s beat m’ass one too many times,” he admits, moving to the side to let josh slip his scrawny frame out the door. “see’ya, josh.”

“bye, b.” with a flick of the lighter in his hand and a twinkle in his eye, josh slides down the staircase and disappeared into the chilly ohio morning. 

when blurry looks back, tyler’s got a wide grin on his face. blurry returns it with an eloquent raspberry, striding up to him to sit back on the couch where josh previously was. “an’ whassat look mean, pumpkin?” he hums, and tyler bursts into giggles as he hides behind his hands. 

“nothin’,” he mumbles, and blurry just chuckles as he crushes his benzos right next to tyler’s colors.


	3. three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "only hurt myself a little, ain't that good?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw sh mention

blurry comes home to the sound of strangled crying. 

he curses under his breath, haphazardly dropping his things as he walks through the apartment. he’s been gone a few days longer than he’d promised, and he feels like shit about it, but beyond that is the overwhelming fear that they’d finally found the only thing worth a damn in blurry’s life. 

luckily, they haven’t. not today. tyler’s sitting on the balcony, dressed in one of b’s oversized shirts and wearing only one sock. he’s nursing a cigarette, never once stopping to catch his breath; blurry sees a half-empty pack next to him and a ravaged one on the cement, and he just sighs as he quietly opens the glass doors and steps outside. 

the times tyler falls out of regression are few and far between, but blurry’s always been there. he’s held tyler as he cried and distracted him with shooting lessons and sometimes made love to him, making sure he feels safe and protected over anything else. he can’t imagine the turmoil tyler must have went through without him there. 

“hey, baby,” blurry softly greets, arms wrapping around tyler’s waist. tyler turns slowly, eyes wet and face flushed but mouth upturned as happy as could be. he swivels carefully around, legs bracketing blurry’s hips in a playful way, and nuzzles his face gently. “m’sorry i’m late.”

tyler shakes his head, taking another long drag before kissing blurry’s split lip. “just glad you’re safe,” he whispers, voice usually high and soft like honey now deep and delicate. “only hurt myself a little, ain’t that good?”

nodding with a little smile, blurry gently presses his lips to tyler’s and waits for resistance. when none comes, he moves his hands up to tyler’s shoulders and kisses him sweetly, grinning as tyler returns it with a shy vigor. “real good, angel,” he purrs, and tyler slides into his arms like a clasp on a locket. 

blurry carries him to the couch, moving slow and sweetly like they’re dancing in a ballroom. tyler’s lanky legs entrap blurry’s waist to hold him up, face warm in his neck as he flicks his cigarette onto the carpet for blur to crush. they slip onto the couch without moving, kissing like kids who’ve never tried it before. kissing tyler’s like kissing an angel, blurry thinks. he’s being baptised. 

pulling back, tyler nuzzles blurry’s crooked nose and places a peck onto his forehead. “let’s get high,” he offers. 

“i’ll never get tired of y’saying that,” blurry laughs, and, hand-in-hand, they wander into the bedroom.


	4. four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "anything, baby, i'll suck you're cock, i'll—"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw withdrawals

blinking his sleepy eyes, tyler fidgets with his small rubber duck as he looks up to blurry. his face is focused, losing himself in the simple task of washing tyler’s hair; the bubbles drip down his swanlike neck and pop into the water as if they were soda fizz.

“why’s joshie staying the night, papa?” tyler asks timidly, nibbling on the beak of his toy as blurry’s hands slow. 

glancing behind him briefly, blurry checks on josh’s form curled up on the couch. his breathing his ragged, sweet eyes wide and frozen in fear as he stares at the threads of the cushions beside him. his body is trembling with a vengeance.

“sleepover,” blurry grunts. he nudges tyler down to rinse out the shampoo, pouring a cup full of water down his scalp to wriggle the suds free. tyler simply nods, closing his eyes to prevent the entrance of soap to sting his vision. 

when blurry finishes conditioning and lets tyler play around with his bath toys, he wanders back into the living room to slowly squat down in front of josh’s face. josh blinks at him, fear draining from his pupils to give way to a desperate sort of shame. 

“need it, b,” he croaks, tears spilling down his flushed face as he shakily boosts himself up to sit. blurry’s warm hands capture his own small, busted pair, but the serious look on his face chills josh. “i know you don’t like it, but it’s been days. i can’t—i have to get some, blur, please. please, i’ll do anything.”

blurry’s already shaking his head, but josh ignores it to wriggle his fingers free and tug up the sweatshirt sleeve covering his left arm. track marks, purple and scarred, dot the pale skin all over the limb, and josh holds it up as if he’s offering a sacrifice. “anything, b,” he sniffles, and blurry looks up from his arm to see josh’s pathetic face. “i’ll suck your cock, baby, i’ll—”

“shut up.” josh’s jaw snaps shut, eyes flickering back to fearful as blurry stands and turns to the television. there’s a box under the tape player, and he pulls the lid off to rummage through the contents and produce a pristine prescription bottle. he swivels back to josh, giving him a stern look as he pops it open and places two white pills in his palm. “take them. now.”

josh goes to protest, but the words die in his throat just looking at blurry’s expression. he swallows them dry, making a face as he wipes the snot from his mouth. “hate suboxone,” he mumbles, scrubbing at his wet eyes in a frustrated motion. “gives me migraines.”

blurry sits next to josh’s slouched frame, and josh braces himself for what he assumes to be violence; instead, calming fingers coax through his knotted curls, and he sighs weakly as he allows his shaky body to melt into b’s arms. “don’t want you doin’ that shit no more,” blurry purrs, soothing tone preventing josh from disagreeing. “don’t care ‘bout much, but y’know you’re too smart f’that.”

cocking his head to the side, josh hesitates slightly before nodding. blurry smiles softly at him, a rare and warm gesture josh tries to capture perfectly in his mind. he knows blurry cares, and that’s what scares him the most. 

“papa?” blurry and josh turn their heads to see a worried tyler standing in the doorframe. he’s in boxers, hooded towel tossed over his shoulders. the frog face hangs curiously over his damp hair, and he timidly approaches the two on the couch. “joshie? you okay?”

reacting quickly, blurry holds out his free arm for tyler to snuggle into. “he’s jus’ fine, angel,” he hums, and josh reiterates this by grinning at tyler and flicking his hood up. 

“have a nice bath, kid?” he asks, and tyler nods with a tiny smile on his face as he curls into blurry’s hold. “good. you don’t stink as bad.”

tyler gasps indignantly, hiding behind blurry’s arm with wide eyes. “i don’t smell!” he shrieks, bursting into laughter as josh reaches over to tickle his sides. he shares a glance with blurry, who grins wide as josh smushes his cheek against his chest. 

they rest, and blurry pretends they’ll never have to get up.


	5. five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "m'sweet thing. don't stop."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw nsfw

josh’s fingers tremble as they clamp around blurry’s shoulders. he fights to keep his eyes open, but it’s hard to when he’s surrounded by all this touch and warmth. the molly isn’t helping, but not in a bad way; it just makes the feeling of blurry’s cock in him and hands on his waist even more intense. 

“doin’ s’good, baby,” blurry murmurs, and josh replies with a soft, sweet gasp as he rocks his hips down so he’s flush with blur’s thighs. his face is pink, eyes wet and smiling as blurry kisses up and down his neck. “m’sweet thing. don’t stop.”

josh doesn’t plan to. he just leans into blur, bouncing his body against blurry’s dick and biting back feeble noises he’s too nervous to let be heard. he’s shy. 

“hey, josh.” josh looks up past blurry’s head and smiles; tyler’s giving him a timid grin, lighting the cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth. he’s got josh’s sweatpants on and one of blurry’s muscle tanks, hair a frizzy mess from when blurry laid him down for a nap earlier. he’s obviously no longer regressed, telling from the way his eyes follow josh's movements. “you look nice.”

laughing shortly, josh nibbles on his bottom lip as blurry’s calloused hand meets his shaft. “thanks, babe,” he huffs, eyelids fluttering briefly as he’s hit with another surge of the ecstasy in his system. “you, too. whiskey’s in the— _fuck_ , b. the cabinet.”

humming to himself, tyler wanders into the kitchen to leave blurry and josh melting into one another. seemingly aggravated at their slow pace, blurry hooks his rough palms under josh’s thighs and flips them over, immediately driving into him. josh groans, head tilting back as his dirty fingernails scrabble against blurry’s spine; the fabric of the cushions under him and the scratching of blurry’s scruff on his cheek and the weight of his body above him is so mesmerizing, he wants to stay just like this until the end of time. 

“scoot.” another weight sits by josh’s head, and he glances up to see tyler with a bottle of johnny walker in his small hand. he smiles down at him, gently lifting his skull up and resting the back of his head in his lap. “you close?”

panting hard, josh nods weakly as tyler’s skeletal fingers comb through his hair. “uh-huh,” he mumbles, fighting a whine as blurry spits on his hand and begins to jack him off in time with his thrusts. “real c-close, baby.”

tyler simply grins again, taking a swig of his drink before placing the bottle on the floor and pressing two of his fingers against josh’s mouth. “open,” he says calmly, and josh complies eagerly; he sucks on his knuckles, whimpering around them as ty presses the tips against his tongue.

“gonna cum, sweetheart,” blurry grunts, brows furrowing as he starts plowing in deeper and harder. josh drools around ty’s fingers, legs spreading as wide as possible to accommodate for blurry’s thick hips slamming against him. “y’gonna take it?”

josh nods almost hysterically, hands gripping the couch under him as a fire builds in his stomach. as blurry sighs and empties into him, j gags on tyler’s fingers as he cums all over his tummy; tyler praises the both of them with gentle words, absently tugging on blurry’s hair as he comes down. 

as soon as blurry can move, he slides out of josh and swipes the bottle from tyler’s side. he takes a chug and tyler gives josh a drag of his cig, and it's an unconventional type of afterglow they bask in.

it’s heaven.

**Author's Note:**

> comment pease


End file.
